


Hands of the Many

by mysweetbologna



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: An AU of an AU, Dragon Age AU, F/F, but i thought this would be a great idea, hello darkness my old friend, no idea what im doing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2017-01-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 11:25:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9438101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysweetbologna/pseuds/mysweetbologna
Summary: Gilrin Riedl finds herself at the Conclave to help her family, but it turns out to be a huge case of wrong place, wrong time. Now she's killing demons, fighting Corypheus, and just trying to stay alive. Alongside the Inquisitor, an intimidating Qunari woman, Gilrin fights to save the world.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Riedl is the son/daughter of a small time trader who travels through western Orlais. They make the hissing wastes their home. The youngest of four, Riedl and their older sisters help their father with his trading, and also hunt, occasionally lending out their talents to procure more rare goods. When trading and customers start to dry up, Riedl’s father sends his youngest to attend the Conclave after hearing about it from one of the villages they travel through. Riedl attends, on the side of the mages, in hopes to find some lyrium trade contracts for their father.

Gilrin pressed her fingertips together, her lips pursed in an effort to remain silent. She still wasn’t sure why she, a backwater daughter of a lackluster trader, was privy to the events of the Conclave. A cleric droned on and on about his solution to the war between the mages and templars, all of it dreadfully boring in his monotone voice. She wanted to ask the mercenary standing next to her if Divine Justinia actually cared about the man’s opinion, or if the woman was just faking it. However, every time Gilrin looked in the mercenaries direction, it garnered a warning growl and a serious glare.

After exchanging several dirty looks, Gilrin crossed her arms over her chest and slouched against the wall, trying to sink further into the shadows. She didn’t belong here, not in the slightest, yet there she stood, to argue for the freedom of mages. Of course, she didn’t know a single mage, what with her family being the only people she intimately knew. Her father claimed that it would be best to be on the side of the mages, what with the growing unrest bringing their trading to a halt, and lyrium being the big answer that would put her family back on the map. She was there to find some new contracts, told not to come home unless she succeeded.

“I’m afraid that’s all the time we have for now. We’ll break and return to the discussion after a night’s rest. Thank you to all who have voiced their opinions, we still have much to think about regarding the unrest in the Free Marches, as well as our own lands.” The Divine spoke a quick blessing and dismissed the overcrowded room. Eight towering Qunari stood alert outside the room, two for each door. One, a woman, with stark white hair that she wore free except for a few thin braids, clutched a staff, a bored, yet menacing look shaping her face. Gilrin shuffled along with the rest of the attendees, wondering exactly what it was she was supposed to be doing now.

It seemed to be unspoken that most were retiring to the dinner hall, where a meal and drinks were being served. Despite the grim conversation just minutes ago, the assembled diners were boisterous in comparison, chatting and laughing quite merrily. Gilrin found an empty seat at the end of a table, helping herself to what looked like roasted chicken and potatoes. Behind her sat several elves, one speaking harshly to the other three in their native tongue. She couldn’t make out anything that they were saying, though from their tone of voice, they weren’t happy. Gilrin tucked into the food on her plate, eating sloppily. The chicken was only a little bit chewy, but it was a drastic improvement over the sinewy meat of varghests and the other wild animals that she and her sisters hunted. If eating like this meant she got to stay at the Conclave, Gilrin hoped it lasted for as long as possible.

The rest of her meal passed by uneventfully, the only remnants of her dinner a few chicken bones. No one bothered to make conversation with Gilrin; she could imagine why. Despite bathing in Haven before attending the Conclave, the young woman still looked dirty, as if the dust and grime of the Hissing Wastes etched themselves into her skin. Gilrin didn’t mind too much; the solitude was welcome. At some point the dining hall began to clear out, the whispering elves behind her among the first to leave. A few of the Qunari that were standing guard during the opening meeting stood by the hall doors as well, arms crossed over their chests. Their intimidating sizes made Gilrin nervous as she left the dining hall in search of the small dormitory she would be staying in until the Conclave ended.

After unsuccessfully navigating the maze-like corridors of the temple, a lay sister pointed Gilrin in the right direction. She found the room unoccupied and sighed with quiet relief. Although she was accustomed to sharing a tent and occasionally a room at an inn with her three sisters and her father, the chance to sleep soundly without snores and limbs waking her cheered her up. Gilrin collapsed onto the lower bed of one of the empty bunks, draping an arm over her eyes. Exhaustion settled in at last and an uneasy sleep claimed her.

~~~

Gilrin woke three hours later, still fully dressed in the light armor she acquired in Haven. Despite being uncomfortable to sleep in, its everyday wear was much better compared to the old leathers she usually wore, the leather armor patched and worn from years of use. I should change before going back to sleep.

A strange crash echoed outside of her room. Gilrin sat up, nearly knocking her head against the top bunk. Silence followed the crashing noise, yet Gilrin sat still, watching her door, one hand resting on the hilt of her father’s knife she strapped to her leg. Several minutes passed before Gilrin relaxed, reaching instead to remove her boots. A second noise, this time a slamming of a door interrupted her, much louder than the noise she originally heard. Gilrin wondered if it just happened to be someone who drank a little bit too much ale in the village, stumbling around the halls to find their room. She stood up, deciding to check outside. Her heart raced inside her chest and she swallowed, unsure why she was so nervous all of a sudden.

Peeking outside the door confirmed that there was actually no one outside. A broken vase lay shattered in pieces on the floor, a chunk with Andraste’s face the biggest of them all. Gilrin stepped slowly down the hall towards the vase and knelt next to it. The perpetrator was nowhere to be seen, though she imagined that whomever they were, they had gone through the door just a few meters from where she knelt. Disregarding the sharp edges of the broken pieces, Gilrin growled lowly in pain when she sliced her left hand on the piece of Andraste’s face. She stuffed it into her pocket, saving the piece for later.

“What are you doing out here,” a gravelly, yet feminine voice called out to her. Gilrin stood quickly, wiping her bloodied hand on her pants. The tall Qunari woman from earlier approached her, staff in hand. Shit.

“I heard noises out here and came to see what was going on. Is that a crime now?” Gilrin huffed loudly. She knew it looked suspicious being out here with the broken vase and blood on her hand, but honestly, if breaking a vase was considered a crime here, then maybe her family was better off not making contracts with anyone at the Conclave.

“It is if you’re near the Divine’s chambers. Tell me, human, what are you doing out here?” Her tone was demanding; Gilrin could tell that she wouldn’t take anything less than the truth, which she had already told the Qunari. The Qunari’s crystalline green eyes narrowed as the silence between them lengthened.

“Look, I already told you. I heard the vase break so I came outside. I thought maybe it was someone stumbling around drunk. How was I supposed to know that that door leads to the Divine’s chambers, hm?”

Gilrin waited patiently for the Qunari to respond, shifting her weight to her left foot. If there was one thing she learned from having three sisters, it was how to stand up for herself, especially in compromising positions. The youngest of four, Gilrin had plenty of experience.

“I’m going to give you one last chance. What-”

“ **Prepare the sacrifice**.” The voice thundered, interrupting the Qunari. She and Gilrin looked at each other, bewildered by what they just heard coming from the Divine’s rooms.

“Now do you believe me,” Gilrin asked, rushing toward the door, the Qunari meeting her there.

“Shut up and open the door!” Together they pulled on the two side by side doors and threw themselves into the room, hoping to stop whatever was about to happen.

~~~

Gilrin groaned, rolling over. Every muscle in her body ached as she forced herself to sit, then stand. Sparks of green light blinded the trader; she shielded her eyes with her hands in attempt to make out her surroundings. What once was the famed Temple of Sacred Ashes now was a desolate, bare wasteland. She had little time to adjust, a hoard of chittering spiders quickly approached her. Gilrin scrambled toward a lone set of stairs, the spiders mere centimeters behind her. With what little strength remained in her body, Gilrin kicked a spider loose and continued climbing, the bright white light at the top beckoning her upward.

If this is death, this is a crappy way to go, Gilrin thought, growing nearer to the light. In fact, it wasn’t a light at all, but the familiar face of Divine Justinia herself in corporeal form. The Divine spoke no words, simply waving for Gilrin to hurry. It seemed like an eternity before Gilrin finally reached the top, the spiders closer now than they were before. Time paused, if only for a brief moment. Justinia offered Gilrin a fond, yet troubled smile, before shoving her through the opening behind them.

_~~~_

_“Gilly Girl! Help your pa out, would ya?” A seven year old Gilrin groaned with detest at the idea of helping her father unload the carcasses of the varghests from his wagon. They smelled like piss and were always oozing blood from the various wounds that brought them down. She hated getting dirty, especially with varghest blood. Why couldn’t her sisters do it?_

_“Pa, do I have to? Camilla and Nastia aren’t doing anything!” Her father paused his work of unloading his other goods, no doubt the results of his recent trades. Gilrin froze, aware of what she’d done. No one questioned Pa, especially not little seven year old girls who didn’t know anything, according to her twelve year old sister Camilla._

_“What did you say, girl?” Pa crossed the clearing toward her, his face growing redder by the second._

_“I- I didn’t mean-”_

_“That’s what I thought. Don’t you dare question me again, Gilrin, else you’ll feel the back of my hand, ya hear?”_

_Little Gilrin nodded her head adamantly in understanding._

_“Now, I’ve had a long day of trading and hunting and I need you to help me unload the wagon. If you love me, you’ll do it now. Do you love me, Gilly Girl?”_

_Gilrin nodded once more. Of course she loved Pa; he provided for her, even if dinner was nasty varghest meat. Without Pa…_

_“Good girl. Now get up in that wagon, girl. I’ve gotta get back on the road in the morning. Some hoitie toitie Tevinter needs some special goods next week and I’m already behind on getting them.”_

_“Yes Pa.”_

_~~~_

_“Gilly, please consider it, okay? This is our last night in town and Pa says we can only go to the festival if you come too!” Seventeen year old Gilrin huffed, put out by Nastia’s request. Camilla and their other sister, Meab brushed their dark hair into the smooth waves all four girls inherited from their mother. In the morning they would head back to the Hissing Wastes, their home for as long as Gilrin could remember. The small town they were passing through had little in the way of company, yet something, or someone, drew Nastia to the festival._

_“Just so someone will carry your drunk ass home, that’s why you’re askin’.”_

_“Pa says us girls need to stick together.” Nastia pouted, her bow-like lips full and red with lip paint she kept hidden._

_“All we do is stick together, Tia. What’s really going on?”_

_“I told you! Pa won’t let us go if you don’t! Please, please, please,” she begged, drawing out the last please for as long as possible, until Gilrin broke down, and said yes. Nastia shrieked with excitement, wiggling her torso in a weird dance. “Michel will be there tonight, Camilla. We are going to dance all night long! Oh! I hope he kisses me. Do you think he’ll kiss me tonight?”_

_Gilrin rolled her eyes, turning her back so Nastia couldn’t see. She loved her sisters dearly, but sometimes she wondered if maybe she was dropped on her head, because where her sisters were fun and giddy, Gilrin was serious and could be described as ‘frigid.’_

_That evening found all four Riedl girls at the festival the small town hosted for the summer solstice. Gilrin still found it peculiar that her father wouldn’t let her sisters attend without her, but she buried the thought at the back of her mind. Gilrin determined it was her turn to have fun for once, if only for one night. Meab pulled her into a dance, the two of them twirling, clapping, and stomping along with the rest of the dancers. It didn’t even bother Gilrin that while the townies were dressed in their best dresses and tunics, she and her sisters wore threadbare shirts tucked into faded leather leggings. The townies didn’t seem to mind either, welcoming the four girls into their midst._

_Hours of dancing and eating before Gilrin took a break, wandering into the tavern for a quick drink. The building roared with merriment, the festival spilling inside. A bartender handed her a small mug of ale, followed with a wink and a quick “On the house.” Gilrin caught the eye of a girl at the bar, red haired and fair, who winked, raising her mug in cheers. She beckoned Gilrin over, pulling her toward a more secluded corner of the tavern._

_“I-” The girl silenced Gilrin, pressing a finger to her lips. Her finger was quickly replaced-_

A burst of pain woke Gilrin from the dream about her sisters and she found her hands restrained, the heavy metal cuffs rubbing her wrists raw. Gilrin blinked the sleep from her eyes and glanced around, taking note of her surroundings. Several guards stood in a circle around her, their swords drawn and pointed at her, waiting for any sign of a wrong move. The dungeon stunk of old water and mold, the only light coming from small flickering torches.

The door slammed open and two armored women stalked into the room. One of them, with dark short hair, gestured for the guards to lower their swords. She struck an intimidating figure, taller than Gilrin by at least half a foot, she had to guess. With the dark lighting it was difficult for Gilrin to make out much else about the woman, either of them for that matter. The other woman, her face shadowed by a deep hood, hung back with her arms crossed, while the first woman started to pace around Gilrin.

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now? The Conclave is destroyed; almost everyone who attended is dead. Except for you.” She spoke with a heavy accent, one Gilrin struggled to identify. Gilrin narrowed her eyes, her eyebrows scrunching together. She didn’t have a response for the woman, merely pursing her lips together. What she would give to be back with her sisters and her father, traversing the vast Wastes, hunting, trading, even eating more varghest meat. They’d be nearing Dulhurst soon, where she’d met that sweet red haired Orlesian girl years ago.

“Explain that.”

“I can’t,” Gilrin stated simply.

“What do you mean you can’t?” The dark haired woman sounded incredulous, taken aback by Gilrin’s honesty.

“I don’t know how I survived, or how I got here.” Gilrin didn’t bother to plead with the woman. She didn’t seem like the type who would really care what her prisoner had to say. Which was quite disappointing because if there ever a moment where Gilrin was completely honest about something she didn’t do, it was right then.

“You’re lying!” She grasped Gilrin by the shoulders, shoving the girl. If it had been a different day, Gilrin might not have been to upset about her current position. The woman’s face was mere inches from hers now and Gilrin was extremely impressed and a little cowed. Not now, Gilly.

“We need her, Cassandra.” The hooded woman stepped toward whom Gilrin now knew as Cassandra, tugging her away from Gilrin. Cassandra, clearly irritated, crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at her prisoner. Gilrin grinned, rolling her shoulders back, which led Cassandra to roll her eyes and huffed in annoyance. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?”

“I remember running. Things were chasing me, and then.. a woman?” Gilrin could only remember flashes of what happened to her. Climbing to the top of.. Whatever that was. The spiders. A womanly figure reaching out to her. Her head ached when she tried to remember anything else in between. It made sense that they wouldn’t trust her and think her at fault.

“A woman?”

“She reached out to me, but then…” Gilrin trailed off, at a loss for words. There wasn’t much else she would be able to tell them; the last few days, if it had really been that long, were a blur and the last full memory she had was meeting that long haired Qunari woman in the hallway. “Wait, you said almost everyone.. Who else survived?”

Cassandra stepped forward again, resting a hand on her companion’s arm. They regarded each other for a few moments before Cassandra spoke.

“Go to the forward camp, Leliana. I will take her to the rift.” Without a word, Leliana nodded, turning quickly on her heel and leaving Cassandra and Gilrin behind. Cassandra removed the cumbersome restraints with deft hands, replacing it with rope that still rubbed at the raw skin around Gilrin’s wrists. She helped Gilrin to her feet, leading her out of the dungeon and up a flight of stairs. Gilrin was a little surprised to see that the dungeon was in the Chantry. Dozens of people hurried about, some clerics and lay sisters, soldiers, and villagers, all in a state of stress and panic. Chantry’s weren’t a new idea to Gilrin, though she never stepped inside of one in her entire life, on the account of her father never raised her or her sisters to be very religious. Gilrin supposed, in retrospect, that there was a sense of irony to that, now having been imprisoned in one.

“What did happen?”

“It will be easier to show you.” Cassandra pushed open the two large Chantry doors, urging Gilrin outside. Gilrin squinted, blinded by the sudden exposure to sunlight. A crackling sound, like lightning, drew Gilrin’s attention to the sky where a massive green storm swirled, hurling balls of something down toward the earth. She peered at it with a mixture of unabashed interest and horror. “We call it ‘the Breach.’ It’s a massive rift into the world of demons that grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only such rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion at the Conclave.”

Gilrin tore her gaze away from the Breach and watched Cassandra, her knuckles white from the tight grip on her sword. The trader wondered what the tall woman’s role was in this whole situation. Was she a member of the Chantry? A sellsword perhaps? Or maybe just a villager caught in the aftermath? Though, any plain old villager wouldn’t have armor like Cassandra’s, of that Gilrin was completely sure. Cassandra had to be someone of importance, what with that giant eye symbol on the center of her chest plate, well crafted and made to fit from what she could tell. It was certainly much nicer and sturdier than Gilrin’s own armor, which was at best, simple and cheap. She almost missed her comfortable leathers.

“An explosion did that?” Gilrin wasn’t sure if she believed Cassandra, though she didn’t have much reason not to. She really didn’t know if demons were even real. She’d heard of the Blight, even remembered her father talking about it when she was young. Never really paid much attention to it, thinking it only to be legend. Her sisters loved the wild tales about the Blight and the heroes who saved Ferelden, but that’s all they were to Gilrin, tales. Maybe she was wrong.

“This one did. Unless we act, the Breach will grow until it swallows the world. There isn’t much time.” Cassandra faced Gilrin, watching her expectantly. Gilrin knew the woman waited for an answer, but which one. Was she asking for help? Because if so then Cassandra was out of her damned mind. All Gilrin wanted to do was go home, albeit a failure.

“Do I really have a choice?”

“Not really.” Gilrin could feel the disapproval coming from Cassandra. It proved difficult to miss, with Cassandra’s hard gaze angrily fixated on her.

“Then it’s settled.” Gilrin rolled her eyes, suddenly more irritated at that than the whole imprisonment. Cassandra pushed her onward, weaving their way through a throng of villagers and soldiers. Men and women alike sneered and cursed at Gilrin. One went so far as to insult Gilrin’s mother, the effect being lost on her though.

“They have decided your guilt. They need it. The people of Haven mourn our Most Holy, Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The Conclave was hers. It was a chance for peace between mages and templars. She brought their leaders together. Now they are all dead. There will be a trial, after all of this.” Cassandra gestured toward the Breach and continued to lead her, further away from the town. An enormous gate loomed before them, riddled with more soldiers.

“I know; I was there, Cassandra.”

“Then you know why we imprisoned you. We lash out, like the sky, but we must think beyond ourselves. As she did. Until the Breach is sealed.” They approached the gate, which creaked loudly while two soldiers pushed it open, allowing Cassandra and Gilrin to pass through. On the other side of the doors, Cassandra removed the rope restraining Gilrin’s hands. She rolled her wrists, bringing feeling back into them. Together they quickly walked side by side across the bridge, cautious of the falling pieces of the Breach. The path up the side of the mountain was winding and difficult, almost as steep as some of the mountains and buttes in the Wastes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,” Cassandra admitted, glancing sideways.

“Gilrin. Gilrin Riedl.” It felt strange speaking her family name. They were largely known in the towns they visited for trading, but otherwise, the Riedl’s were complete strangers to the rest of Thedas. Her family wasn’t prominent by any means, nor wealthy. What meager funds they had were saved up from years of work, the occasional swindle or scheme.

“Riedl? Is that Ferelden?”

“Marcher, supposedly. My family’s ancestry is fuzzy, to say the least.”

“I see. And what was your family’s involvement with the Conclave?” Cassandra seemed to either be truly interested in knowing more about Gilrin, or she was merely starting the trial early. Gilrin imagined that either way, she would be found guilty of being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

“We were hoping to find some new trading contracts, for lyrium. My father figured there would be someone there needing a lyrium trader. I obviously didn’t get a chance to find out.”  
Cassandra made a faint sound of acknowledgment. She paused holding an arm out in front of Gilrin to stop her.

“Demons! Stay back!” Cassandra charged forward, drawing her sword. Three demons blocked the road, their cruel black forms something Gilrin had never seen before. Seeing them made her a quick believer in everything Cassandra told her in the dungeon; the Breach was truly spewing demons upon the earth, and they were horrifying to look at. The demons surrounded Cassandra, who hacked and slashed at them relentlessly with all the might she possessed. One demon swiped at Cassandra, knocking her back a few steps. The warrior gasped, momentarily caught off guard, before regaining her strength and eliciting a war cry.

Gilrin searched around, looking for any sort of weapon, anything that could help Cassandra. A large crate sat nearby with the Chantry’s symbol on it. She ran to it, flinging open the top, and rifled through its contents. Satisfied with the two daggers she found, Gilrin rushed to help Cassandra, slashing one of the daggers down a demon’s backside. The demon hissed in anger and spun around, facing Gilrin. Its arm swung out at her and she sidestepped it, only to come back and sink her left dagger into its face. Gilrin didn’t know what she expected when a demon died, but it definitely wasn’t the disintegration into ash or magic that happened in front of her. Cassandra dispatched what remained of the demons, drawing her sword out from its body before it too disintegrated into nothing. Before Gilrin could move, Cassandra’s sword was at her throat.

“Drop the weapons!” Gilrin decided it would just be easier to acquiesce. Cassandra was a sensible woman, a sensible, distrusting, woman.

“Alright, look, I’m dropping them. I was only trying to help you.” Gilrin raised her hands, about to release the daggers before Cassandra interrupted her.

“No, stop. As much as I hate to admit it, you’ll need that where we’re going.” Cassandra gritted her teeth, as if it was painful for her to spit the words out. She lowered her sword, sliding it back into the sheath on her belt. Gilrin lowered her hands, tightening her grip on the two daggers. They felt familiar, like the pair she carried before the Conclave, though these were a bit lighter, thinner, deadly. “Come on, we’re almost to the rift. You’ll hear the fighting soon.”

Gilrin and Cassandra pressed on, an uneasy agreement between them. They neared the top of the hill, and Cassandra’s words were true, she could hear the roar of fighting from where she stood. The two women rushed over the top of the hill, to the battle. Several people fought against a small horde of demons; Cassandra and Gilrin joined the fight. Demons were dispatched left and right, until all that was left were a few remains and some dust. A strange sound, one that fizzled, saturated the area and a shot of green light connected with the rift the demons had come from. Gilrin spun around, finding the source of the light, her jaw dropping in surprise at the sight of the Qunari woman.


End file.
